


The Blurred Lines Between Heaven and Hell

by flashytonystark



Series: #PsychicGinger... I Ship It [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF, Modern Westeros - Fandom
Genre: All of the Modern Settings, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comfort, Emotional, Emotions, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Crack, Game of Thrones References, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Inspired by Game of Thrones, It's Late and I Hate Making Tags, Jojen Reed is such an underrated character, Modern Era, Modern Game of Thrones, Modern Westeros, Non-Canon Relationship, OTP Feels, One Shot Collection, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship(s), Sansa Stark deserves someone like Jojen Reed, Series, Shipping, These are my two favorite people, crackship, fight me, my beans, smols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashytonystark/pseuds/flashytonystark
Summary: Over and over again, she read how beneficial it could be for the other person to talk it through, though she never pushed Jojen to do so if he didn't want to. Some nights he was up for it, other nights not so much. Those were usually the bad nights, the ones where all he wanted was Sansa and he usually fell back asleep with his body curled protectively around her own.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As a side note-- this is set after the breakup between Sansa and Jojen. They're back together trying to fix their delicate relationship while Jojen is still struggling with his PTSD from being a medic in the war (the reason for their breakup originally).

With her hair piled high on her head and dressed in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, Sansa snapped a plastic lid onto a Tupperware container that contained the leftovers of dinner that night right as the kettle on the stove began to whistle loudly, alerting her to the fact that the water was hot enough for her tea.

She carried her favorite mug into the living room and curled up on the couch with Lady, the steam from the tea curling up and into her face. Jojen had already gone to bed a few hours before, exhausted from the 12-hour shift he had worked. Sansa was still awake however, still trying to unwind from the hectic day she had at work. 

She scratched Lady behind the ears and took a sip of her tea, thinking about turning on some late-night infomercial to bore her into exhaustion when she heard it. Or him, rather. Jojen was talking loud enough that Sansa could hear him all the way in the living room. 

She left her mug on the coffee table when she got up and headed down the hall. When she entered the room, Jojen was in bed and tangled in the blankets, sweat beaded across his forehead. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but based on his twisted expression, it was nothing good. 

Lowering herself gently onto the edge of the bed, Sansa placed a hand on his shoulder as she turned on the bedside lamp. She gave him a gentle shake, murmuring his name as she did so.

He shouted this time, and it was clear he was saying her name, but he sounded pained and frantic as he did so.

"Jojen, wake up." She repeated, a bit louder this time as she placed her palm flat against his chest. "Wake up."

In an almost instant, his eyes flew open, dark and on high alert. He grabbed her wrist tight enough to leave a mark, but when she winced and pulled away, something flashed in his eyes and the stony expression of his face crumbled and was replaced by one of guilt and shame.

He pushed himself into a somewhat seated position and balled his fists into the blankets, refusing to look Sansa in the eye. "I... I don't know... I don't know what happened. Sans, I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I would never... You... You know that."

It absolutely broke her to see him like that—guilt ridden and upset over something he had no control over. Sansa sighed and gently placed her hand over one of his, slowly easing his grip on the blanket until she could interlock their fingers. 

"Shh, it's okay." She murmured softly. "You were having another one of those nightmares again. I could tell by some of the things you were saying and I've noticed it gets worse when you work long hours at the clinic. You were dreaming about being in the field again, weren't you? Do you want to talk about it?" 

Soon after she had learned of the PTSD dreams—or nightmares, rather—that Jojen was experiencing, Sansa made it her top priority to read anything and everything she could get her hands on pertaining to handling it. Over and over again, she read how beneficial it could be for the other person to talk it through, though she never pushed Jojen to do so if he didn't want to. Some nights he was up for it, other nights not so much. Those were usually the bad nights, the ones where all he wanted was Sansa and he usually fell back asleep with his body curled protectively around her own.

With a shaky breath, Jojen closed his eyes and shook his head. "Usually it's just faces, people I don't recognize. But tonight you were... you were there, but I couldn't get to you, no matter how hard or how fast I ran. People were screaming and crying and the sound of guns firing was everywhere but I couldn't get to you. I yelled your name to try and get your attention and you turned, but the moment you did, there was a loud bang and your knees crumpled underneath you and then you were just..."

He shuddered, not wanting to discuss the nightmare any more. "It's just... the dreams they're so... so real and even after I wake up I can't always tell that I had only been dreaming. These places I've been, the memories burned into my brain, I can't turn them off. They creep up on me at the most random times. Something perfectly normal happens and it triggers my training and reflexes, Sans, and suddenly I'm back pulling severely wounded men out of danger, praying to any god I can think of that I make it out alive. But I'm not there. I'm here, but I can't make my brain realize that. Everything blurs together and I'm reliving that godsawful hell as you sit ten feet away from me. I hate this, Sans. I hate knowing I almost hurt you because my brain is all fucked up... You're my safe place. I just can't always get there when I need to and it kills me."

Sansa had already climbed into bed completely and was sitting on Jojen's lap with her knees on either side of him before he even opened his eyes. Her hands were cupping his cheeks within moments, tilting his head up toward hers, and she leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. 

"Give me your hand." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she dropped one hand from his cheek to grab his. She was damn near an expert at figuring out exactly what he needed to work through these moments, to gain assurance that everything was going to be fine. This time was no exception. 

She grabbed his hand and squeezed hard before bringing his hand up to rest palm down against her chest. She held onto his wrist for a moment to keep his hand in place before eventually moving her hand to cover his own. "Just breathe, close your eyes, relax." She murmured again, gently running the thumb of her other hand across his cheek. They remained like that for several minutes, complete silence surrounding them. 

"I'm right here, okay? I'm right here and I'm safe and happy, and nothing is wrong. You can feel my heartbeat, right? That's because I'm here with you, not on some blood-soaked battlefield. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. This isn't your brain playing some cruel trick on you. I'm here and I don't plan on leaving you. We'll figure this out together." She pressed her mouth against his in a soft kiss that quickly turned into something more pronounced and deep. She felt the tips of Jojen's fingers biting into the flesh of her right hip, his other hand curling slightly into the fabric of her shirt.

Reluctantly, Sansa pulled away and sat up and as she did so, Jojen dropped his hand from her chest and immediately reached for one of Sansa's intertwining their fingers. 

 He was still studying how perfectly their hands fit together, Sansa's smaller hand in his larger one, when he spoke. "How d'ya manage to do that? Keep me from slipping and going back there, I mean?" His eyes found hers as he reached up to run his finger along her jaw. His voice was softer when he spoke again, eyes drifting from hers to search the rest of her face as if he was attempting to memorize it. "How do you keep managing to put all of these broken pieces back together without ever wanting to give up?"

"No one ever said it was going to be easy, and I think we both found that out the hard way." She replied, settling down into the empty space beside him. Jojen raised the hand that still wasn't holding hers and tapped his chest in a silent invitation for Sansa to lay her head there before reaching over to turn off the small lamp. Moonlight peeked its way through the curtains, casting a calming glow across the hardwood floor and themselves.

Shifting so she was completely on her side, Sansa rested her head against Jojen's chest and possessively hooked a leg over one of his. She could feel his fingers twirling strands of her hair around and guessed his eyes were closed—like hers—as they laid together in the quiet and calming dark.

She had lost herself in the moment, and had almost forgotten to reply to his question. She hoped he was still awake. 

"Jojen?"

"Hm?" He replied, his hand dropping from her hair to her back where he immediately began to draw random patterns across her upper back and shoulder blades. 

"When has anything with us ever been easy? I don't want easy. I want chaos and laughter and tears and exhaustion and elation. I don't ever want to give up. Not again." She paused, lifted her head, and could see Jojen was looking down at her. His drawing random patterns on her back had stopped. 

"Besides, I kind of already know how to handle broken—I have a lot of personal experience, you know. Simply put, I love you, Jojen Andrew Reed, and I'm always going to be here to bring you back."

**Author's Note:**

> Mm, I haven't updated here in forever. Here's my most recent ficlet of Sansa and Jojen. (My precious beans).  
> Hope you enjoy! I plan to continue adding more fics to the site (I have a lot that I haven't updated... whoops!)
> 
> One day I swear I'll sit down and actually write out the multi-chapter fic for these two that's been stirring in my brain for quite some time. One day... One day...
> 
> Happy reading! Xx


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